


Edu(gay)tion

by Purple_Maniac



Category: All Time Low (Band), Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23513929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purple_Maniac/pseuds/Purple_Maniac
Summary: No, they absolutely did not turn the five-year-old Ryan's supposed to be babysitting (and the kid's best friend) gay. They're only educating the kids that being gay is not a bad thing.
Relationships: Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie
Kudos: 15





	Edu(gay)tion

**Author's Note:**

> Since I'm a total perv, the smut was the first thing I wrote, and then I just kind of made it into a High School/College AU, with kid!Alex/kid!Jack from ATL, and throwing in minor Jon/Spencer because why the hell not. This is as good as a PWP, honestly.
> 
> Enjoy!

The evening is chilly, and a gentle breeze blows against the twenty-year-old’s face. He sits at one end of the front row of the bleachers facing the school field, where the high school baseball team has been practicing on for a couple of hours now. He allows his eyes to roam the faces of the players occasionally, but always finding one brown haired, bright eyed player in particular. He lets his eyes linger on the younger boy who had just swung his bat. Ryan’s gaze is transfixed on the baseball which goes flying, to the other end of the field, the pitcher going after the ball, while the boy immediately takes off in a sprint, already on his way to attempt to complete a home run.

The papers he’s got laid out in front of him rustles slightly at the edges. Ryan shifts his elbow to anchor them down. He follows the boy who easily makes first base, then second base, frequently looking back his shoulder to watch if the ball comes flying back. It doesn’t, and he slows down as he nears the final stretch. The rest of his team clap and cheer when he eventually makes it back, full diamond. He bathes in the attention he receives, dramatically jumps on the home plate, and moonwalks back to join a few of his teammates, who give him enthusiastic slaps on the back. The boy beams, now turning his attention to Ryan and waves both hands above his head animatedly. He’s still catching his breath and his hair is damp with fresh sweat. Ryan’s heart swells inside his chest.

The older boy lifts a skinny arm to wave back at Brendon, but then the wind comes back, stronger, and his papers start fluttering away. He lets out a small yelp, and slams his palms on top of the papers, scrambles to collect them back. Ryan heaves a relieved sigh when he successfully does so, grateful that he doesn’t need to get up and chase after any rogue pieces of homework that had dared to escape his grasp. Spencer, who is sitting nearby, glances up from his calculus textbook, and snorts upon witnessing a flailing Ryan. Out in the distance, Brendon tips his head back in a bellow of laughter. Technically, Ryan shouldn’t even be able to perceive the sound from such a distance, but he still hears Brendon’s laughter loud and clear in his ears, having imprinted the melodic sound into his brain.

He huffs, and glowers at Brendon, narrows his eyes for added effect. Brendon coos, and tilts his head to one side, his hands coming up to the front of his chest, his fingers bending to form the shape of a heart. When the coach calls for him, he quickly blows Ryan a kiss, which Ryan does the action of catching it, stuffing it in his jeans pocket for safe keeping. He’s already got his pockets overflowing with flying kisses from Brendon. Brendon grins and turns away.

Jon, the captain of the baseball team, swings a sweaty arm around Brendon’s shoulder, and titters, “Dude, you are so whipped.”

The co-captain shrugs, throwing Jon a shit-eating grin.

Spencer, who had been subtly spying on the two from the corner of his eye, offhandedly tells Ryan the same thing. Ryan ignores the comment, and resumes his literature homework. He hides the blush threatening to creep up his face behind a convincingly placed hand disguised to support his chin.

“Hey.”

“Oh! Hey,” Ryan greets distractedly, looking up from his stacks of open books and papers laying haphazardly on the bleachers. “Already?”

Brendon gives him an easy smile and nods. He looks behind Brendon to see the field empty, save for a few sweaty guys still in jerseys mingling around after practice. Brendon plops down heavily on the bleachers with a sigh, right next to Ryan, and stares down at the college-level homework. He doesn’t say out-loud that he’s actually intimidated by it, feeling a little nausea starting to seep in. He blinks and tells himself that he’s still got time; sure, he’s in his senior year, but he doesn’t want to think about college just yet. So Brendon decides to look at the owner of those hellish assignments instead.

“I see you’ve made good progress there.”

Ryan could smell the soap off Brendon’s body from the recent shower, his hair still wet and matted to his forehead. Ryan hums thoughtful, eyes wandering to the various sheets filled with messy scrawls he calls his handwriting.

“Yeah, I'm about three quarters done.” Ryan confirms that he’s indeed made good progress, and glances up at Brendon from his work. “So that I can tutor your sorry ass tomorrow.”

Brendon chortles, “Oh, but you _love_ my ass, Ross.”

Ryan shoots daggers at him and flicks some eraser shavings at Brendon who remains unfazed as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Off to the side, Jon and Spencer break apart from sharing saliva and chuckles at the two. 

“I think it’s really sweet that Ryan’s always waiting for you after class and after practice,” Jon comments out of the blue. “I didn’t think we’d get so much free time during college.”

“Yeah, well, all that free time is spent doing assignments,” Ryan sighs dejectedly, splaying out his hands at the heaps of papers before him to prove his point.

“Ryan waits for me because he loves me,” Brendon chirps adorably, leaning the whole of his muscled frame against his boyfriend’s, and presses his cheek into Ryan’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryan drawls with a roll of his eyes, gently pushing back at Brendon. “Come help me pack up and we can leave, I’m starving,” Ryan says as he rubs his tummy for effect.

They share a laugh, before Jon and Spencer say their goodbyes, and depart walking hand-in-hand to the parking lot. Brendon helps Ryan tidy his papers as he closes his books, and starts placing them neatly into his backpack. On the bench, Ryan's phone lights up with a buzz, signalling a new text message. He ignores it, but the buzz comes again, and again. And again.

“Um, that seems important, don’t you wanna take a look at that?” Brendon asks hesitantly, giving a side glance at the phone and seeing about four text notifications show up on the lock screen consecutively.

“It’s fine -- I’ll just look at it on the way,” Ryan dismisses, and shoves his phone in his pocket.

The two quickly finish packing up Ryan’s stuff and make their way out of the field, where only a few other players on the baseball team are still lingering around after practice with their girlfriends, but now having changed out of their jerseys. Brendon waves them goodbye with a yell. The other guys return the wave.

When Brendon pulls out from the parking lot, Ryan whips his phone out and reads all of the messages. As if on cue, the phone rings just as he’s about to dial the number that’s calling him.

“Good evening, Mr Gaskarth,” Ryan greets as they make their way to the local Mexican fast food place.

“Hi, Ryan, I'm so sorry,” Mr Gaskarth starts, clearly sounding apologetic.

Mr Gaskarth had hired Ryan half a year ago to babysit their only child, Alex, a little over five years old. Mrs Gaskarth was only a few months pregnant with their second child then, and it was nerve-racking yet exciting to know that another baby is on their way.

“Do you think you could make it tonight?” The man tries not to sound too hopeful over the line.

Ryan remembers that his parents are going away for a business trip till Monday, and he really needs the extra money for college, and to take his boyfriend out sometimes, so he agrees.

“No, it's alright, I can come over tonight,” Ryan assures the worried father, giving an expectant Brendon a side glance and a small nod with a flick of his wrist as a signal to continue going.

“Okay, great, thank you. Right now my brother Tim is looking after Al, but he's got to go in an hour or so, and I'll need your help then. The doctors also mentioned that Marie likely has to stay a couple days, so if you don't mind staying over for this weekend full-time, I won't have to trouble Tim -- he's got other personal commitments this weekend. Marie's sister will drop by Sunday evening to take over from you. I'll pay you triple for these few days,” Mr Gaskarth explains in a rush, and Ryan hears the clanging of metal and the beeping of monitors in the background.

“Oh, um, wow, yeah,” Ryan stutters, blinking a few times. He takes a breath and confidently says, “You can count on me.”

“Thank you so much, Ryan. I've got to go, we'll talk soon,” Mr Gaskarth says hurriedly before cutting off the call.

There is a moment of silence in the car as Ryan stares bewildered at the road in front of him. Brendon keeps giving him curious side glances every few seconds, as they whiz past cones of orange light coming down from the street lamps, and he makes a left turn.

“So, you gotta go after dinner? Is everything okay?” Brendon asks, readjusting his grip on the wheel nervously as he focuses on the road ahead.

“Yeah, Mrs Gaskarth is in labour and if I stay for the weekend, they're gonna pay me _triple_ ,” Ryan breathes, letting out a small laugh.

“That's awesome!” Brendon exclaims, and half-jokes, “I’m expecting you to bring me to a fancy restaurant when that paycheck arrives.”

“Maybe if you get a ‘B’ for your next calculus test, then we’ll talk,” Ryan challenges.

“ _Or_ , maybe if I gave you amazing head when we go back to my place later...” Brendon’s voice trails off, and he moves his hand from the wheel to Ryan’s thigh, slowly sliding it upwards.

Ryan squirms and stops Brendon’s hand just as he brushes against his already growing erection, the fucking _traitor_ , and laces their fingers together instead. “Stop teasing me,” Ryan complains, and Brendon wiggles his fingers to deliberately try to make contact with the obvious bulge at the front of his jeans.

“Stop it!” Ryan playfully hits the back of Brendon’s hand, and Brendon chuckles, but obeys.

“But, hey, I'm sure they won't mind if you stayed over too, right?” Ryan asks rhetorically, a sheepish grin on his face as he gives Brendon a longing look.

“Ryan. We are not fucking in front of a five-year-old,” Brendon deadpans.

Ryan's eyes widens comically and he gasps in disbelief, Brendon earning himself a loud smack where Ryan's palm connects with his inner elbow. Brendon lets out a loud guffaw, pulling his arm back in an animated manner, feigning a pained look on his face. “Ow!”

“What -- I, I wasn't even thinking about that!” Ryan sputters, getting increasingly red in the face. He was thinking about how he sure as hell wouldn’t mind cuddling the weekend away with Brendon, but instead he says, “I was talking about your tutoring sessions.”

That wiped Brendon's smile off his face.

“Aw, man! I thought we could just chill this weekend,” Brendon whines.

“Nope,” Ryan declares smugly. “Classes are still in session.”

\---

With bags of Mexican food buckled up safely in the back seat, Brendon drives them to his place, seeing as he has to inform his parents that he will be gone for the weekend, and to pack the things that he needs.

Ryan had sent a text to his employer asking if he could have a friend over, explaining that he has to give tutoring sessions, because it would be plain rude if he didn't. Thankfully, Mr Gaskarth agreed. 

Brendon pulls up along the street in front of his house, and they walk hand in hand up to the front door.

“Hey, Ma,” Brendon greets once he throws the door open, and sees his mother in the kitchen washing up the dishes.

“Hi, Grace,” Ryan gives her a shy wave.

“Hey, boys, you’re early today,” Grace asks, going over to hug her son, and Ryan as well.

They talk briefly, about school, practice, and Ryan. Brendon tells his mother that he’ll be away for the weekend, and Ryan promises to make sure that Brendon does his due diligence in completing his homework and revising for his upcoming exams. Not to mention that Ryan is still going to give Brendon their weekly tutoring sessions.

“Yeah, I am not letting this one go that easily,” Ryan tells Grace, giving his boyfriend a pointed look, only to have Brendon blinking innocently back at him.

Once in his bedroom, he closes the door and kisses Ryan, only to be pushed away three seconds later as Ryan hurries him to concentrate on packing, because they’ve really only got half an hour left and they still haven’t gone to Ryan’s place for his things. As much as Ryan wants the blowjob that Brendon had promised in the drive over, they really don't have time for that right now.

Brendon pouts, but he starts throwing clothing items and some books into a duffle bag. He opens his bedside drawer and pulls out a cylindrical tube, dumping it into his bag as well. Since they’ve already gone bareback (so much for practising safe sex; it was totally Brendon’s idea, Ryan only welcomed it with open arms, literally), they only use lube now, and Brendon was quite pleased that he didn’t have to spend that extra money on condoms anymore. Really, lube is all they need.

Ryan stares at him, cheeks getting pink, his mouth agape but no words are coming out. Brendon shrugs nonchalantly, and throws a flirtatious smile at his boyfriend over his shoulder.

“Just in case.” 

\---

When Tim opens the door to the sound of the bell, Alex emerges from behind his uncle. The moment he sees Ryan, he shouts excitedly, “Ryan! You're here!”

“Hey kiddo,” Ryan chuckles, ruffling the little boy's hair. “We got food!” He chimes, holding up a bag of Mexican, while Brendon hugs two more in his arms and beams down at the kid through the packaging.

“Hey there,” Brendon greets pointedly at Alex, but upon seeing an unfamiliar face, the five-year-old retreats hurriedly back into the living room.

Tim smiles gratefully as he swings the door open wider and steps aside to let them in. “Thanks for coming over,” he says as he shuts the door.

“No problem. Oh, and this is my uh -- my friend, Brendon.” Ryan stumbles at choosing the right words to introduce Brendon, afraid that Tim may not be too accepting of what they are. Gay, that is.

“Mr Gaskarth says it’s okay for him to stay too, since I have to tutor him and all,” Ryan explains.

Tim nods understandably, giving Brendon a polite smile.

“Just as long as the two of you don't start getting it on in front of Alex, alright?” Tim bends down lower to their faces and whispers, giving them both a knowing look.

Their eyes widen in shock, and whips their heads to face each other for a second. Brendon clears his throat and quickly looks away, and Ryan flushes, nods meekly. Tim doesn’t even try to hide his smirk.

“Alrighty then, Uncle Tim has to go, so you behave yourself alright?” Tim announces as he picks Alex up and pretends to fly him in a circle around the coffee table like an aeroplane, getting giggles from Alex.

“Okay, I promise, bye Uncle Tim, I love you,” Alex says as he gives his uncle a big hug before Tim puts him down and proceeds to leave.

Just as the door clicks shut, Alex runs over to Ryan and drapes himself over his leg, jumping up and down, chanting excitedly, “Food, food, food!”

Brendon laughs, and jokingly says, “Dude, I think I've found my new best friend.”

Ryan rolls his eyes as he opens the bags up, while Alex stares curiously up at Brendon, who makes a funny face, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue. But that only causes Alex to frown and tug at the hem of Ryan's shirt.

“Hm?” Ryan absently hums, bending down so that Alex can cup his palms around Ryan's ears and whisper, “Ryan, who’s that?”

Brendon still hears the question, and he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. Ryan pauses, watches Brendon open the bags up and lays the food out. He catches Brendon’s eye, a corner of his lip twitching as he decides to be honest to the little guy.

“Well, this is Brendon. He’s my boyfriend,” Ryan declares, earning a surprised look from Brendon and he smiles so wide that Ryan is amazed his face doesn’t split in two. 

“Boyfriend?” Alex asks, confused. “But you're a _boy_ , you're supposed to have a _girl_ friend!”

“Well, see, I'm not attracted to girls, and neither is Brendon. We’re both gay,” Ryan explains, touching his boyfriend on the arm affectionately, to which Brendon pulls him close and presses a kiss against Ryan's temple.

“What’s ‘gay’?”

“It’s when you’re a boy, and you like another boy,” Ryan explains in the simplest of terms.

“But that’s not right!”

“No, there’s really nothing wrong with that,” Ryan shrugs. When Alex squints, he adds, “Being gay is not a bad thing.”

“It’s not?”

“Nope.”

Alex watches on curiously, not sure what to make of this newly-learnt information for now, and they can almost hear the cogs in his little brain working overtime to process what Ryan had said. As far as the attention span of a five-year-old goes, Alex instead focuses on the amazingly smelling food laid out in front of him, the conversation forgotten. When Alex distractedly takes a bite out of his giant burrito, Brendon whispers lowly into Ryan's ear, “Fuck babe, that was hot.”

“Oh yeah?” Ryan breathes, deliberately focusing on his food instead of the light touch of Brendon’s lips against the shell of his ear.

“Hell yeah, can we really not...” Brendon shifts a little in his seat and doesn’t finish his question, but Ryan knows what he’s asking for.

He hums. “We'll see,” he teases, to which Brendon tries not to groan too loudly, leaning closer into Ryan's side and placing his chin on his shoulder while still munching on his quesadilla.

Ryan smirks and suppresses a laugh, but he almost chokes on the chicken piece he was about to swallow when Brendon discreetly squeezes his ass.

\---

“Okay, time for bed,” Ryan announces when the Jenga blocks come crashing down onto the coffee table.

He’s responded with two whines from the only two other people in the house. Alex had demanded five more minutes; Brendon complained that it was way too early for bed. Ryan only rolls his eyes at his boyfriend and laments, “Not you, Brendon.”

Brendon beams and sticks his tongue out at Alex, who huffs and crosses his arms around his chest, pouting menacingly, but he looks too adorable to be taken seriously. Brendon laughs and ruffles his hair and says that they'll go to sleep after one final round of Jenga. Ryan’s about to protest, but Brendon leans over to him and whispers something in his ear, so that Alex doesn't hear. Alex watches on, intrigued, when Ryan turns a shade redder and nods, complies.

Fascinated, Alex wonders, “Wow, Brendon, what did you say to Ryan?”

Brendon smirks, darting a look at Ryan, and shrugs, “I guess I offered Ryan a proposition.”

“What's a po-po-shi-shun?” Alex mispronounces with a scrunched nose.

“Oh, I just made a really good deal with Ryan, something he can't say ‘no’ to,” Brendon says, and wiggles his eyebrows at Alex.

Alex squints his eyes at Brendon, and then at Ryan, and appears to be deep in thought. Ryan stares at anything else but them, averts his eyes deliberately, finding the charred wooden logs of the fireplace particularly interesting. 

“Does it have to do with books?” He finally decides.

Brendon barks out a laugh at the pure innocence of a five-year-old. Ryan chokes on his saliva and tries to pull it off as a coughing fit, pressing a fist to his lips, face getting redder by the second, not just from the incessant hacking. They look pointedly at each other, Ryan still recovering from the coughing and refuses to speak. He looks down on the coffee table this time, eyes trailing the lines of wood grains.

Brendon clears his throat.

“Yes, yes it does.”

\---

A loud, sultry moan escapes from Brendon’s slightly parted lips.

Ryan's hooded eyes flew open as he crushes his lips against Brendon’s, trying to swallow the sound, to which Brendon only moans louder. Above him, Ryan is propped up with his hands gripping at Brendon’s shoulders, and he moves his hand to smack it firmly against his boyfriend's mouth.

“ _Brendon!_ Shut _up!_ ” Ryan hisses through gritted teeth, stilling his body and listening attentively for any sounds that might indicate if Alex had woken up.

Brendon attempts to speak through his hand, but Ryan doesn't understand the series of muffled noises, so he slides his hand away to cup Brendon's cheek instead.

“I will if you would just continue,” Brendon complains, squeezing Ryan’s body with his legs wrapped around him and pushing his hips upwards, desperately trying to get more friction.

They had tucked Alex into bed, Ryan reading him a bedtime story about knights and princesses and dragons, while Brendon made awesome sound effects at the appropriate times. Alex had appreciated the cool noises, even joined in with Brendon at making voices for the characters, and declared that Brendon was cool in his book.

“Brendon, you're now on my best friends list,” Alex had chirped, clasping his hands together.

They watched TV for a while more, well, mostly they were making out on the couch with the TV on, because Ryan had insisted they remain well-behaved, just in case Alex wasn't fully asleep or if he decides to wake up from even the slightest noise. Later, Brendon had gotten impatient and pinned Ryan down on the soft cushions, grinding his pelvis into Ryan's, their dicks pressing into each other’s through the rough material of their jeans. Brendon was very vocal during sex, and he had obediently suppressed all his moans while they were engaging in a hot and heavy makeout session (Ryan had long given up trying to control his urges after Brendon started straddling him and attacking his neck with kisses), but when they had made their way as silently as possible into the guest bedroom and gotten rid of all their clothes and Ryan was suddenly on top of him moving steadily in and out of him, Brendon just couldn't help the sinful noise that came out of his mouth.

“Okay, but you really need to be quiet,” Ryan hushes, and starts working a rhythm again.

Ryan places soft kisses along Brendon's jaw, trailing his mouth down to his neck and his collarbone, biting and sucking at the skin, and he's sure that it’s going to leave a mark, maybe a few, but neither can care less. Brendon's hard cock twitches between their bodies, and as Ryan slides his own in and out of Brendon, gaining momentum, Brendon has to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from making any noise. The only sounds left in the room is the rhythm of their bare skin slapping against each other’s as Ryan pounds repeatedly into him, and their pants of breaths as they relish in pure ecstasy.

“Bren, I'm gonna --” Ryan doesn't finish his sentence, and Brendon feels the familiar warmth that spreads through his insides as Ryan empties his load in spurts into Brendon.

He doesn't pull out, instead, one of his hands grips the base of Brendon's erection, and it only takes a couple of strokes before Brendon rides his own climax, letting out a strangled _‘Ryan’_ as he does, the white sticky liquid spilling all over his stomach. Ryan doesn't miss a beat -- he bends down, his dick slipping out in the process, and he catches any remaining cum with his mouth, swallowing all of it down. He lets go of Brendon's softening cock with a wet pop, and moves up to lick at Brendon's stomach, making sure to get all of it. Brendon shudders.

He feels the wetness trickling out of his asshole, and onto a towel that they had (thankfully) remembered to lay over the sheets. That’s probably one of his favourite parts, heck, all parts of sex with Ryan Ross are his favourite, and he grins wanly at Ryan, lifting his head up to look at the other boy who still had his face at his tummy. Ryan returns the smile and moves back up to kiss Brendon, inserting his tongue into his mouth, pushing some of the cum into the owner's mouth. Brendon smirks against the kiss, but sucks at Ryan's tongue, tasting himself.

“Mm, I taste good,” Brendon comments sleepily, and Ryan giggles ( _giggles!)_ and rests his head on Brendon's chest.

“You taste _really_ good,” Ryan sighs out, allowing Brendon's ego to be fed just this once.

Without warning, Brendon flips them over and hovers over Ryan, their dicks brushing in the process, and Ryan feels himself grow hard again. Brendon swirls his tongue around Ryan's left nipple and Ryan bites down on his lower lip, eyelids fluttering shut. He trails wet licks and kisses down his body, stopping at the mess of curls below, his chin bumping into the tip of Ryan's now fully erect cock. He feels the cool precum against his skin.

Ryan opens his eyes where Brendon had paused for a moment too long, begging him with his darkened pupils for Brendon to get on with it.

“Now, let me see how good _you_ taste,” Brendon whispers seductively against the tip, locking eyes with Ryan, and Ryan watches as his cock slowly disappears between Brendon's thick, wet lips.

He takes Ryan as deep as he can, feels it hit the back of his throat, but he doesn't gag, and he starts moving back and forth, pressing his tongue against the tip. Ryan hisses and clenches the sheets with his fists, pushing his hip toward Brendon's mouth and Brendon coughs around his dick. Ryan mutters an apology, but Brendon only smirks and resumes giving his boyfriend a blowjob, although his hands now grips onto Ryan's hips gently, holding them down just as a precaution.

Still caught in an intense gaze, Ryan's hands cover Brendon's and he squeezes, and Brendon lifts his palms up slightly so they could intertwine their fingers. Brendon hums around Ryan's cock and Ryan shivers at the added vibratory simulation. Brendon closes his eyes and focuses on sucking, licking, and occasionally using his teeth to gently graze at the sensitive areas. Ryan refrains himself from arching his back too much, and Brendon appreciates the gesture.

He moves on to play with his balls with his tongue and lips, and feels how tight the skin has become, and Brendon knows that Ryan is about to release a second time. So he returns his lips to Ryan's throbbing cock and does his finishing move: long, slow sucking strokes, and flicking his tongue against the sensitive skin below the tip. Sure enough, Ryan comes with a groan erupting from the base of his throat. He releases his seed in violent spurts, the liquid hitting the back of Brendon's throat. He doesn't waste a single drop, swallows all of it down.

“What happened to being quiet?” Brendon muses, licking his lips.

“Shut up,” Ryan half-growls as he comes down from his climax, eliciting a snigger from the other boy.

“Fuck, babe, you taste amazing,” he murmurs contently against Ryan's lips and Ryan tugs Brendon down with his teeth biting down onto his lower lip, pulls him down into a kiss.

He tastes himself against Brendon's tongue, and hums, pulling back.

“Hm, I think mine's better than yours,” he says smugly, and Brendon chuckles, his body weight now resting against Ryan's, a sheen of sweat between their bodies, effectively sticking them together.

“You wish,” Brendon scoffs, but gives Ryan a peck on his lips before they settle in a comfortable cuddling position, Brendon spooning Ryan from the back, and they fall asleep.

\---

“Why are you washing the bed sheets, Ryan? Did you have an accident?”

Alex stands in the doorway, having caught Ryan hastily shoving the stained sheets into the washer, Brendon pouring a shit ton of detergent into the tray. They went at it again in the morning, and had gotten _too_ enthusiastic, the stains belonging to Ryan; he was still half-asleep when he came, Brendon fisting his cock from behind. Ryan blames Brendon for this.

“Uh, no, Alex, um, they just felt dirty,” Ryan stammers as he tries to come up with a legitimately believable reason.

Beside him, Brendon laughs silently through bouts of air through his nose, and Ryan glares at him and says, “I think they haven't been slept in for too long, and they were giving Brendon the sniffles.”

Upon meeting Ryan's gaze that represented death itself, Brendon wipes the grin off his face and smoothly transitions his suppressed laughter into sniffles, then pretends to sneeze, rubbing his nose and sniffs a few times, sending a pathetic pout Alex's way. The kid seems to have bought it, because he exclaims worriedly, “Oh, no! Come on, Brendon, Doctor Alex will cure you of the sniffles!”

Alex tugs Brendon away by the hand and he follows the boy out of the laundry room happily, throwing Ryan a smirk over his shoulders. Ryan flips him off with an emotionless smile on his face.

“Hello, Brendon, what's wrong with you today?” Alex asks, after he had donned on an oversized labcoat that came down to his ankles and hung the plastic stethoscope around his neck. He fixes the rounded glasses that threatens to slip off his tiny nose every three seconds.

“Hey, doc, I think I've got the sniffles,” Brendon begins nasally, and loudly fakes a sneeze with an _achoo_.

Alex checks Brendon's heart beat with his stethoscope, and writes random numbers on a piece of paper. Then he commands Brendon to open his mouth to say _ahhh_ , and climbs onto his lap to examine the inside of his mouth with a flashlight. Brendon tries not to laugh when Alex peers into the darkness of his mouth with one eye, trying to shine light in at the same time. He jots down some gibberish onto the same piece of paper. In the kitchen, Ryan looks on fondly with a warm smile on his face. It was the first time he’s ever seen Brendon with a kid, and he thinks he’s fallen deeper in love with that boy. Brendon catches him sneaking glances, and winks.

“Okay, please go and collect your medicine -- Oh, no, where did the nurse go?” Alex runs around the couch in search of Ryan.

“Here I am, and I've got Brendon's medicine right here,” Ryan says in a sing-song manner as he pops out from rummaging in the fridge, holding a glass of brownish liquid up for them to see.

“Oh, my God, Ross, what the hell is that?” Brendon repulsively demands, physically jumping back when Ryan pushes the glass into his face.

“Your medicine,” he simply says with a straight face.

“Brendon, if you want to recover really, really fast, then you need to drink it,” Alex encourages, though Brendon didn't find it at all appealing to be drinking a mysterious muddy liquid.

Ryan shakes the glass from side to side, and watching the liquid sloshing around is enough to make Brendon gag. Even Ryan’s monstrous cock didn’t make him gag.

“You know what, I think I’m miraculously cured!”

“No, Brendon, you need to drink it!” Alex exclaims exasperatedly, and Brendon unwillingly snatches the glass from Ryan, who’s got an evil grin on his face, and squeezes his eyes shut, invokes a silent prayer, and downs the drink in one go.

“There, you'll get better in no time!” Alex happily declares, then settles down onto the chair and starts eating his breakfast that Ryan sets down in front of him, consisting of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast.

Ryan stifles his laughter from behind his fist, and Brendon glares at him, trying not to throw up the contents he had just swallowed. The “medicine” was a mix of chocolate milk, orange juice, and pickle juice. Gross.

“Oh, you are so gonna die for this,” Brendon grumbles against Ryan's ear, and Ryan bites his lower lip, apologises half-heartedly and laughter starts bubbling in his chest.

Brendon huffs but pulls Ryan in for a kiss, intending to let Ryan have a taste of his own medicine, literally, his hand at Ryan's lower back, eliminating any space between them so that their hips knocked against each other's, and suddenly --

“EW!”

They jump apart, having forgotten that Alex was in the room. Brendon grins sheepishly, but keeps his hands on the sides of Ryan’s hips. Ryan gives Alex an apologetic smile, and mumbles, “Sorry.”

Alex considers for a moment, then wonders, “Is that the same as when my mummy and daddy do it?”

Ryan exhales sharply through his nose, and confirms, “Yeah, it's the same.”

“But even boys with boys?” Alex asks sceptically.

“Yup, it’s all the same when you do it with the person you’re in love with,” Brendon supplies with a nod.

Alex purses his lips as he absorbs the information, and returns to take a bite into his toast thoughtfully, Brendon's words echoing in his mind over and over. ‘ _The person you’re in love with…’_

\---

Alex sits with his math workbook open, and diligently writes the answers into the boxes provided. Under his breath, he counts, lifting one finger at a time, how many apples Joe has in the end if he has five in the beginning, and receives three more from Andy. He proudly puts the answer onto the paper when he gets it.

Brendon, on the other hand, is struggling with calculus, his brows furrowed, shoulders hunched over the worksheets, concentrating hard. Ryan had patiently explained the equation for the third, no, fourth time now, but Brendon still isn't getting it.

He sighs out in frustration and demands, “Why don't you just show me how to do it?”

“Then you wouldn't learn anything that way,” Ryan points out, and Brendon groans, collapsing onto the table.

“But at least I'll finally have the answer,” Brendon supplies weakly, voice muffled from where his head now rests in his arms.

Alex looks up from his workbook and notices Ryan diving his fingers into Brendon's hair, massaging his scalp. He suddenly thinks of his best friend at school, Jack, and remembers behaving in a similar fashion to Ryan when Jack had lost his toy alligator, and had been sobbing into his arms with his head on the table. For a brief moment he wonders if he and Jack are boyfriends, like how Ryan and Brendon are.

“Why don't we all take a break?” Ryan suggests, and Alex cheers, forgets all about what he thought of Jack and runs outside to play.

Brendon sighs out heavily, propping his chin up with his elbows on the desk. He stares at the equation, and Ryan knows that he's trying to understand it, he's really trying, but with the way he's forcing it right now, he's never going to get it. So Ryan pulls the papers from under his elbows and tosses them aside, out of Brendon's reach. He pouts, looking over at Ryan, and Ryan places a soft kiss on his wrinkled forehead.

“I'm scared, Ry,” he admits with a heavy sigh, twisting his fingers together in nervousness.

Ryan only nods and shushes him soothingly, rubbing his arm comfortingly. He leans into the touch, and closes his eyes, resting his head on Ryan's shoulder. They stay like this for a while, when suddenly Brendon frowns, and bites down hard on his lower lip.

“What if… what if I don't make it?” He croaks, voice barely a whisper.

“Hey, Bren, you will,” Ryan affirms, and adds with a slight chuckle, “Have you actually forgotten how stressed out I was?”

Brendon’s face immediately cracks open into a smile, which then quickly turns into a smirk.

“Yeah, I can't believe you actually refused sex!”

“Oh, fuck off, I really wasn't in the mood, that's how bad it was,” he mutters bitterly.

“At least I am,” Brendon sings, smiling sweetly up at his boyfriend, batting his eyelashes.

“You're always in the mood,” Ryan groans, and rolls his eyes at Brendon’s seemingly high levels of libido.

“But, hey, no matter what happens, I'll still be here, alright? You're never getting rid of me,” Ryan promises, placing his lips on Brendon's knuckles.

Something shines in the eyes of the younger boy and the look he’s got on his face isn't something that Ryan had seen very often, maybe only a couple of times. It’s the same look when Ryan ran forward to help retrieve his books when they tumbled out from his locker, and it’s the same look after Ryan had plucked up all his courage to finally kiss Brendon.

He leans forward, and Brendon meets him halfway in a slow, sensual kiss.

\---

Brendon finds Alex in the backyard, throwing a baseball at a target, but misses, just barely. He spots two gloves by the side of the porch, and puts the larger one on, and hands the smaller one to Alex. Alex notices that Brendon has got a glove on, and beams, shoving his tiny hand into his own, running off to retrieve the ball. Brendon stands with his knees bent, feet apart, and signals for Alex to throw the ball. He does, and it's not a bad throw. He catches it just before it hits the ground. Brendon could work with that.

They spend a good solid hour in the sun, Brendon teaching Alex how to perfect his throws, his catches and even moving on to swinging the bat. Alex declares that he wants to be on the baseball team, and to play for his favourite team, the Red Sox, when he grows up. Brendon casually brings up the fact that he's the co-captain of his school's baseball team, and Alex looks up to Brendon with adoration in his eyes. He thinks it’s almost the same look that Ryan gives him.

When Alex successfully hits the ball with a forceful swing of the bat made for a five-year-old, he sprints over and jumps into Brendon's arms, and they celebrate with a newly formed secret handshake. Alex whispers into Brendon's ear, “Brendon, I think I like you better than Ryan, but don't tell him that, cause he'll get mad.”

He sniggers, and they both look into the house through the window, and Ryan looks up from the book he had been reading and meets their gazes, giving them a quizzical look. Brendon shrugs, Ryan stares at the two of them for a moment, but eventually returns to his book. 

Brendon promises he won't tell, holding his right hand up in a solemn swear. Alex giddily grabs at Brendon's shirt collar, exposing his collarbone, and he catches a glimpse of the red spot on his skin. He pokes at it and asks, “Oh no, have you been bitten by a mosquito?”

Brendon almost chokes at the innocence, how a kid sees a love bite as a mosquito bite but nods, “Yeah, I sure have, but don't worry it doesn't itch anymore.”

Alex then contemplates asking about Jack, and he jabs his shoe into the grass a few times and mumbles, “Brendon, what if I think I’m in love with my best friend who is also a boy?”

Brendon's eyebrows shoot up and for a moment he's speechless. He’s afraid that his and Ryan's influence had Alex swinging the other way, but Alex snaps him out of his thoughts when he wonders out loud, “He's coming tomorrow to play, should I kiss him?”

Brendon's eyebrows shoot up higher. He thinks, they're only five, an innocent kiss probably means nothing. Besides, Alex probably doesn’t even know what it means to be in love. So Brendon finds himself nodding and encouraging a five-year-old to kiss his best friend when he comes over tomorrow. He's sure that nothing bad would happen from it; they're just kids, for crying out loud.

“Shh, this is our secret, ‘kay?” Alex puts a finger on his lips and shushes against it.

Brendon does the action of pulling a zip across his lips, turning it, and tossing the key away over his shoulder. Alex smiles gratefully and they return back into the house.

Ryan had enquired Brendon about what was up with him and Alex being so secretive, but he had shrugged dismissively, claiming it was nothing. Alex peeks at them from the corner of his eye, not so discreet for a five-year-old, and Brendon catches him looking over. When Ryan conveniently goes to the bathroom, Brendon repeats the action of zipping his lips and gives Alex a little wink. Alex nods and goes back to counting apples and oranges in his workbook.

\---

After putting Alex to sleep, Ryan pulls the clean smelling sheets over the mattress with a little of Brendon's help, relieved that they didn't have to sleep on the floor or squeeze on the couch if they hadn't dried in time. Thankfully, there was full sun for the bulk of the day, and the sheets had dried quickly. Ryan bends down to tuck the fabric under the mattress when he feels something hard against his butt.

“Brendon…” Ryan warns, turning around to point a finger accusingly at his chest.

He's got both hands at Ryan's hip and he pulls him close, so that his erection is pressing against Ryan's thigh shamelessly, and as much as Ryan wants to, one of them needs to have the self-control here. Ryan stands his ground, doesn’t budge, doesn’t cave, doesn’t give in.

“Brendon, _no_ ,” Ryan rebukes, breaking out of his boyfriend's grasp and moving to fix the other corner of the bed.

“Aw, _please_ , Ry,” Brendon whines, and palms himself through his underwear, his erection causing a tent through the fabric. There’s already a darker wet spot at the front of the material.

When Ryan ignores him, he pulls his dick out, and hugs him from behind with one arm, the other stroking lazily at his rapidly hardening cock, the tip wet and brushing at the exposed skin of Ryan's back where his shirt had ridden up. He feels the blood rushing downwards, desire filling his body. When Brendon moans his name seductively, breath hot against his neck, all the self-control Ryan thought he had went flying out the window. The only thought he has going through his mind is to satiate his boyfriend, because that was seriously too hot for Ryan to handle. Ryan blames Brendon, for --

“ _Ugh, fine!_ ”

He hastily drops down to his knees with a frustrated groan, and pulls Brendon’s underwear down further, and takes him into his mouth without hesitation.

Brendon makes a tiny satisfied sound, lolls his head back as Ryan works his mouth against his cock, and Brendon shoves his fingers into Ryan's hair. He tugs, gently, and moves his hips back and forth in time with Ryan, and fucks Ryan's mouth. Brendon's knees grow weak as Ryan laps consistently at the right spot, and Brendon feels his orgasm building up.

“Oh, fucking -- _Ryan_ ,” Brendon hisses, knees starting to buckle from the pleasure. “Please don't stop,” he begs through ragged breaths, though Ryan has no intention to.

Ryan swirls his tongue around the tip, and licks long strokes upwards starting from the base of his cock, and repeats. He hears Brendon's breathing get shallower and moves a hand off his thigh to caress his balls, and Brendon's breath hitches. He grips the base with his long spindly fingers and strokes faster, his head bobbing together with the speed of his hand movement, and Brendon shudders, tightens the grip on Ryan's head. It doesn't hurt, but Ryan groans softly, the vibration stimulating the dick he’s got in his mouth, which sends Brendon careening off the edge.

“Holy fuck, _Ryan_ ,” Brendon cries out, waves of pleasure washing over him as he rides out his orgasm, Ryan swallowing everything down and tucks Brendon back into his underwear.

“Oh, my God, you seriously are the best,” Brendon sighs out contentedly and they fall onto the bed, his muscled arms wound tightly around Ryan.

Ryan scoffs, and Brendon kisses his neck, his hand slipping down the waistband of Ryan's boxers, only to have it slapped away.

“Yeah, well, we should stop, because if we dirty the sheets again there's no way I can explain to Mr Gaskarth what we've been up to these couple of nights,” Ryan bitches, knocking his elbow into Brendon's chest.

“But what about you?” Brendon worries, his hand grabbing at Ryan's hard-on through the fabric and sighs.

“Get your fucking hand away, I'll live,” Ryan snaps, swatting Brendon's hand away, and sulkily adds, “For the record, you owe me.”

“Nuh-uh! I made you come _twice_ last night, and _another time_ this morning, don't you remember?”

“Yeah, but we fucked in my employer's house with his five-year-old kid in the next room. I broke the rules for you, so you definitely owe me big time,” Ryan grumbles moodily.

“Oh, and what's that?” Brendon murmurs thoughtfully against Ryan's cheek.

“A fuckton of sex when we get outta here.”

\---

True enough, Jack's mother comes to drop him off at ten in the morning, and Alex descends the stairs in record speed to engulf Jack in a bear hug. 

“JACK! YOU'RE HERE!” Alex yells, squeezing the air out of the other boy.

“Hey, Alex,” Jack greets his best friend shyly, and Alex grabs his hand and leads them inside.

They play their own version of Fortress, creating two pillow forts on opposite ends of the living room space with any soft pillows and blankets they can find, Alex and Jack on one team, Ryan and Brendon on the other. They had split the sponge balls equally in half, safely stored in a huge plastic tub, and each team retreated under the blanket to work out their strategic plans.

The younger boys had briefly explained the gameplay to the older boys; simply put, whichever team manages to destroy the other’s fort first wins the game. Each team is allowed only one cardboard shield, and only a single part of the fort can be removed and brought back to their team’s fortress each time. It’s not against the rules to pick up any ammunition lying on the ground, and if a person gets hit three times, then they’re dead.

Team Alex and Jack took the game seriously -- they had discussed their thorough plan of action, and worked out which part of the enemy's fort to take down first. Jack, being the more artistic one, had even drawn a picture of the enemy's fort with crayons, and the plan of attack in a series of numbers and accompanying explosions as Alex walked him through with the plan.

Meanwhile, Brendon goes to lie flat on the ground, Ryan's head on his stomach as they wait. Brendon runs his fingers through his boyfriend's hair, and Ryan muses, “So, what's our plan?”

“Attack,” Brendon simply replies.

Ryan lifts a brow at Brendon with a bemused smile, and Brendon shrugs, “They're five, they can't be _that_ good.”

“Oh, you'd be surprised.”

Brendon makes an indifferent noise, and when Ryan glances up at him again he curves his index finger to motion Ryan to come over. Ryan does, and rests his chin on Brendon's chest. Brendon grins, and tips his head to give him a kiss, a hand holding onto the back of Ryan's head. They break apart when Alex calls out, “Ready?”

Ryan affirms distractedly, placing another lazy kiss on Brendon's mouth, and they hear shuffling from the other fort.

They don’t realise what is happening until a pillow is pulled from their fort and one side of it caves in. The older boys scramble off the floor, retrieving ammunition of their own from the tub, and flings the balls out from the hole they've created from their fort blindly, apparent that they hadn’t come up with a strategy of any sort. Ryan fixes the side of the fort sloppily, and resumes throwing balls, albeit haphazardly.

“ATTACK!”

Alex and Jack shriek war cries as they follow suit, hurling the balls over the edges of their fort, trying to aim at Ryan and Brendon instead, their plan forgotten. Since playing catch with Brendon the day prior, Alex’s aim had gotten significantly better, and Ryan gets hit once on his shoulder, and Brendon twice on the back even when he had his shield up as he attempted to pull away one of the pillows from the younger boys’ fort, but needing to retreat in fear of being hit another time. 

The weight of the balls that land on their blanket caused the roof to cave in, and Brendon tries to jostle the fabric upwards to get rid of the extra weight, but fails miserably. The flimsy material falls on their heads, and the balls roll all over the place. They hear Alex and Jack cheer and the loud smack of their palms against each other's in a triumphant high five.

“ _Nooo!_ ” Brendon laments dramatically, bunching the blanket and tossing it aside carelessly, Ryan laughing but still throwing balls, his aim getting worse with each ball he hurls.

Alex and Jack are preparing to engage in their final battle formation plan, and they start running out of their fortress, throwing balls so rapidly that Ryan has to duck and crouch down below in the safety of the pillow wall. Brendon gets hit in the process because he had his back turned to fix one side of the pillows that had fallen over because of Ryan’s clumsy and too-long limbs. He lets out a surprised yelp, and pretends to die a dramatic death, sprawling more than half of his dead body across Ryan’s lap. The other side of their fort crumbles, and really, it doesn’t even resemble anything like a fort now, more like a heap of pillows and balls and Brendon.

The two five-year-olds charge forward when they've depleted their supply of ammunition, and hurl their tiny bodies onto the sole remaining pillow wall in front of Ryan, and they all come crashing down, tumbling onto the ground in a tangle of limbs and giggles, and the game of Fortress comes to an end. Team Alex and Jack had come out on top. Ryan and Brendon had gotten their asses kicked by two five-year-olds.

Once they get up off the floor, Alex leaps up and down in celebration, and then Jack throws himself at his best friend, engulfing him in a tight hug as they continue bouncing on the balls of their feet. Alex pulls away first, and thinks about his conversation with Brendon and how he really wants to kiss Jack, and he stares at the other boy’s mouth that is showing off a toothy grin. Alex decides to go ahead with it and he grabs Jack firmly by the shoulders and pecks him once on the lips. Jack is at a total loss of words as he stares at Alex with too wide eyes, blinks a few times. Brendon nudges Ryan in the rib, waggles his eyebrows and smirks at a gawking Ryan. Brendon can’t help but feel a sense of pride for the little guy.

Ryan, on the other hand, blanches. He gapes, glancing between Alex and Jack and starts to panic. He thinks, shit, would Mr Gaskarth kill him if he were to find out that he and Brendon might have turned his son gay? He prayed that they weren’t in the least homophobic. And that they’re maybe atheists, because then they have no God to tell them that being gay is a sin, right?

Alex grins, and picks up a ball lying by his feet and throws it at Jack, hitting him straight in the chest. That seemed to make Jack break out of his daze, and the four of them engage in a subsequent ball fight. Finally, they had exhausted the majority of their remaining energy, and they all stayed on the ground in a heap, out of breath, but feeling extremely satisfied after a good gameplay. Brendon crawls over to Ryan and takes his face in his hands, kisses him passionately.

“Alex, does that mean we are like them too?” Jack wonders, having witnessed the kiss.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Alex says quietly, and smiles unsurely.

“Is that allowed? Isn’t it wrong?” Jask asks as he scrunches up his little nose.

“No, it’s not wrong. Ryan said that it’s called being gay, and that being gay is not a bad thing,” Alex explains while nodding with conviction, and Jack scoots over to give Alex a kiss on his cheek.

“Oh, okay, then I think I’m gay too.”

\---

Ryan had tried, but to no avail, to convince Alex and Jack that they were, in fact, not gay. They were only five, and only when they grew older would they understand better if they liked girls, or boys, or both, or even neither. He’s not sure they fully get what he’s trying to say, because Alex had been adamant that he’s in love with Jack, which made him gay, and Jack had nodded fervently in agreement with whatever Alex had said.

They had even started to hold hands, and Ryan screeches. But only on the inside.

Brendon bites his lower lip to refrain from laughing, and teases, “You better start praying they’re not homophobes. Who knows, they might not even pay you --”

He nearly gets hit by the hardcover book that Ryan chucks at his head.

Alex then brings out his crayons and papers and the two sit down on the floor to draw some pictures on the coffee table. Luckily, Ryan notices that they haven’t been sharing kisses, or holding hands, so he forces himself to relax and convinces himself that the being gay thing had completely slipped from their minds.

Ryan digs out a history textbook, much to Brendon’s dismay, but Ryan manages to help Brendon with his revision for about three chapters before the bell rings.

Jack’s mother had come back for him, and Alex was really sad to see Jack go.

“We’ll still see each other tomorrow at school,” Jack reasons.

“But I miss you already!” Alex complains, and hugs Jack one last time before his best friend leaves hand in hand with his mother.

“Reminds me of you,” Ryan comments offhandedly to Brendon, who gasped and brought a hand to his chest in mock hurt.

When Jack leaves with his mother, Ryan silently thanks the non-existent gods that they didn’t start kissing each other or start holding hands again. Ryan prays that they had really forgotten about it, because his paycheck depended on it.

The bell rings a second time not five minutes later, and Ryan is relieved to see Mrs Gaskarth’s sister standing on the other side of the door.

“Auntie Annie!” Alex squeals enthusiastically.

“Has Alex been a good boy?” Annie asks, crouching down and pulling Alex into a hug.

“Yes, I have!”

“He has, don’t worry,” Ryan assures, and ruffles the hair of the little boy’s head.

As much as Ryan loved the kid, and would be willing to babysit Alex for the rest of his life if he could, he’s actually glad to be able to finally leave the place. Not to mention when Annie hands him his pay in a rather hefty looking white envelope, the first thing that comes to mind is splurging it on a nice meal with his boyfriend. Forget about Brendon getting a ‘B’ for his exam -- Brendon had already given Ryan a different ‘B’, as in ‘B’ for ‘Blowjob’.

Ryan kind of wants Brendon to give him another one of those amazing ‘B’s now. But he also wants that fancy dinner with Brendon. Priorities, priorities...

\---

They ended up going back to Ryan’s place after stopping for Chinese takeout, both deciding to postpone the fancy meal. The fuckton of sex Ryan had promised had obviously outweighed a luxurious dinner, as proclaimed by Brendon (which Ryan silently agreed). They had taken their food in the living room, and when their appetites were sated, Ryan had straddled Brendon on the couch, and proceeded to rock his hips against Brendon’s. Ryan had given one of the said ‘B’s to his favourite ‘B’ on the couch while they were still fully clothed, Brendon returning the sentiment. Then they had moved on to Ryan’s bedroom and Brendon had fucked Ryan till they both came, and then switched. Finally, Ryan had flipped Brendon over on all fours and fucked him from behind, one hand on Brendon’s hip and the other stroking Brendon’s cock, and they climaxed yet another time. The sheets were stained beyond belief. Brendon was loud as hell. Ryan was glad that his parents wouldn’t be home until the next day.

After a short period of cuddling and sloppy lazy kisses, Ryan pours more lube on his fingers, the newly opened bottle almost empty by now. He inserts a finger into Brendon’s crack, and Brendon already feels so loose from Ryan’s cock fucking him over the last few hours. He pulls out and uses two fingers, scissoring them and Brendon mumbles a string of curses unintelligibly.

“Need you now, Ry,” Brendon whispers breathlessly, and Ryan immediately removes his fingers to put more lube on his leaking erection.

Brendon whines at the loss, but the next thing he knows, Ryan pushes himself into Brendon and slides in and out slowly, sensually. The whine turns into a pleasured moan as Brendon lets his jaw run slack and he pants while Ryan works a steady rhythm, pinning both Brendon’s wrists down above his head. When Ryan moves himself deeper and hits Brendon’s prostate, Brendon lets out a loud moan that was of utmost sin.

Brendon had resorted to closing his eyes because the pleasure was too much; it was the first time that they had taken it this slowly, the first time that they had actually ‘made love’. When they had sex, it was usually fast and dirty. Brendon’s head reels when he realises that Ryan is in fact making love to him. His heart swells, and he lifts his head off the softness of the pillow to capture Ryan’s mouth in a passionate kiss. Ryan continues moving slow and steady back and forth, and Brendon hooks his other leg behind Ryan, and rocks his hips to meet Ryan’s thrusts. Ryan sucks on the pulse point on Brendon’s neck, his thumbs moving in light circles at Brendon’s wrist. Brendon lets another loud moan escape from his parted lips.

“Babe, I’m almost there,” Ryan breathes against his neck, and keeps his mouth there, his breaths tickling Brendon’s skin.

“Fuck, me too,” Brendon mewls when Ryan repeatedly hits the right spot with the tip of his dick.

With one final slide, pushing in as deep as he could go, Ryan comes with a strangled cry, Brendon’s name on the tip of his tongue. Brendon follows a second later, when he feels Ryan hit his prostate straight on, and vocally spills his seed onto his stomach, his entire body shaking violently as he, too, rides out his orgasm. Ryan feels his arms tremble, weak from the fourth orgasm he’s experienced in a row, and collapses onto Brendon. They stay like this until one of them has the ability to express their thoughts into words.

“I love you,” Brendon whispers as he returns back down to earth.

“I love you too, baby,” Ryan whispers back, and pushes his nose into Brendon’s cheek, inhaling deeply.

“This is the first time we’ve ever made love,” Brendon clarifies, and Ryan only smiles in affirmation.

“I love you,” Ryan repeats, and Brendon hums happily, capturing Ryan’s lips in another passionate kiss.

“That was a fuckton of sex, holy shit. I don’t know if I can walk normally tomorrow. Jon and Spencer are totally gonna know,” Brendon groans, but he’s got a wide gleeful smile plastered on his face.

“Who the fuck cares? I think they already know. And who’s to say they’re not doing this themselves?” Ryan counters.

“Shit, how am I gonna explain walking funny to my family?” Brendon exclaims in horror.

Ryan guffaws endearingly, and shrugs, “Just tell them you fell on your ass during practice.”

Suddenly, a realization dawns on Ryan as he fathoms, “Fuck, Bren, and I didn't even _touch_ your dick!”

Brendon presses his lips together, giving Ryan an amazed smile, because heck, he never even knew that he could come without having to jerk off. That was mind blowing. They've really got to do this more often. Brendon voices his thoughts and Ryan agrees whole-heartedly.

He eventually pulls his softened dick out of Brendon’s ass, the latter making a sound of disapproval at the now emptiness he’s experiencing. Ryan watches as the white liquid oozes out, and he uses his tongue to lick a long stripe starting from Brendon’s hole all the way up his balls, up the shaft of his dick and up to the very tip. Brendon closes his eyes and groans again. Brendon’s cum had been messily spread across both their abdomens when Ryan fell on top of him, and Ryan grabs his blanket to wipe them both clean, going to retrieve their underwear from the foot of the bed. 

Much to Ryan’s (and Brendon’s) annoyance, his phone rings, interrupting the peaceful silence. 

“George Ryan Ross The Third, did you turn my son gay!?” The appalled father shrieks.

Ryan cringes, not really knowing what to say. He turns his head to face Brendon, and stares at his stark naked body sprawled out over his mattress and his lover smiles languidly at him. He's only got one recurring thought running through his head at the moment, and he doesn't hesitate reciting exactly that to Alex’s father.

“So what if I did? He’ll learn that the sex is fucking amazing.”

Brendon doesn’t try to hide his laughter, and Ryan hangs up and switches off his phone, carelessly tossing it aside before crawling back up to Brendon, underwear forgotten.

“You’re never gonna see Alex again,” Brendon says, still trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard.

“I don’t care, as long as I’ve got you,” Ryan purrs against Brendon’s tummy, dipping his tongue into his navel, and Brendon’s laughter dies in his throat, only to be replaced with a moan just as loud.

“God, Ross,” Brendon hisses, and he genuinely wonders, “How many times do you think we can keep doing this?”

“Making love to you?” Ryan pretends to be deep in thought as he considers the question. “Yeah, well, I could do it forever.”

He sucks once on Brendon’s cock, already half-hard, and Brendon mutters a curse under his breath. Before Ryan can take his erection into his mouth once more, Brendon gets up and tackles Ryan down to the bed, so that now he’s on top. He nuzzles Ryan’s neck, and proceeds to give him a hickey, and Ryan sighs out, turning his head to allow Brendon a larger expanse of his neck. Brendon grinds down onto Ryan, their dicks pressing against each other’s, and they both moan out in pleasure at the same time. Brendon grabs the lube, well, the last of what’s left now, and stares deeply into Ryan’s eyes, dark and swirling with desire.

“Yeah, well, I think it’s my turn now.”


End file.
